Spiorad Foraois
by Lehava Shadowsong
Summary: An AU set in ancient Scotland. Where magic, science, and the meeting of two peoples will change the fate of worlds. f!ShepxGarrus, VictusxOC, multiple OC pairings. EDITTED PROLOGUE 10/30
1. Prologue: Giant's Teeth

**Author's Note: **This story was inspired by _Brave_, though you will see little relation between the movie and the story. Even though the movie is a hodgepodge of several centuries of Scottish History (I only know that thanks to my sisters' half hour rant on it) it captivated me and I wanted to explore it more. This story will be the same hodgepodge, with some items from the modern era within it, healthy doses of fantasy, some sci-fi and a big dollop of imagination.

The story doesn't focus on Shepard and Garrus exclusively. You will see other couples, some original characters. If you don't like same-sex couples or sex scenes, other scenes as real as possible, then this isn't the story for you. If you're like my sister and want a historically accurate story, then this definitely isn't for you.

In the end, I hope you enjoy it. This is the first story I hope to complete, and do a sequel for. It's been a long time since I've been motivated to write, my style is rusty and I tend to ramble a la Tolkien.

Constructive criticism is welcome to help me grow.

So we will open with a prologue and the beginning of a legend…

**Authors Note II: **Stuck at work during Hurricane Sandy and it's terribly slooow so I've gone back and added some to the story. Hope it helps with the story and explaining some things that will come later.

**Spiorad Foraois**

_Prologue – Giant's Teeth_

By Claret Amazon

c. AD 214

Usually these stories started with a dark and stormy night. Wild thunder and the blinding strikes of lightning spearing through the coursing cold ran. Wind that lashed the leafless tree branches into clawing hands, moaning through the crags like shrill screams of the dead. They came in these stories to murder and maim, to pillage and rape. Monsters all of them with thick furs, beady eyes, swords like dragons teeth and spitting fire. Chaos was left in their wake, nurtured by tears of sorrow and the shock of brutality.

Reality was far different. Armies marched under cloudless skies, blood spilled on fresh spring grass. There was still maiming, pillaging and rape, yet like death, such things never waited for the proper setting or time.

And wars, or a collision of people, could be started by a seemingly innocent action in the wrong place and time.

That's where this story begins.

The place of her choosing was deep in the forests where mist was constant and little light pierced the thick canopy in the height of summer. It was a circle of stones that stood twice, thrice, as high as the tallest man, carved thick and rough. Their bases were plunged into the moist earth with little care like dice from the hands of a drunken man. None but she dared go near the Giant's Teeth, for many legends rang out of dangerous spirits in the standing stones' shadows.

Every legend was different, every person's reaction to their magic just different enough. Some spoke of large beasts with eyes like fire, others of azure water spirits wreathed in blue flame. In such an age when the corners of the maps had not been filled in and vast water was filled with monsters that ate ships, those that lived near the Giant's Teeth avoided them. To trespass there was to be cursed.

The enchantress feared not the old legends. Here was the strongest magicks, useful in the spell she wished to cast. Her Queen desired the potent spells of luck for their men leaving for war. A chase across water and land to the home of those that had invaded the Lowlands of her Caledonia. The spell was weaved with the motion of her hands, the song of her voice. Try as she might, sadistic glee could not be kept from tainting her magick. These invaders would finally pay for their transactions.

As she spun her spell, the shadows danced. A voice mirrored her own, deep and primal, words unlike any language they had. The pulse of her dance began to match that whisper, tearing at the borders of her world. Her feet fell faster on the sod, crushing what little grass thrived as their voices reached crescendo in unison, heart beating faster and faster and breath aching in her lungs. The power tasted like freedom, her soul free from its mortal prison.

Air flickered in purple tones, glimpses of an alien world peeking into hers as the strands of power from both sides reached for each other. They brushed, caressed against each other. Wisps sought purchase in the material worlds to lace together like a bridge over the cold gap of nothingness between soils.

This nothingness was the source of magick for every layer of the realms, for from the darkness was born the elements, the Spirits and other creatures. It belonged to no one world, and no world belonged to it. The void had been there before Humans, before the others, and would remain long after their existence became a fogged memory.

Each plane fought against the other, unwilling to be brought together. A snap resounded through the emptiness and the friction recoiled in a wave down the conduits, seeking the ones that tore the fabric of the worlds. It found the pathways and tore through them with the last breaths of their work.

The final beat of her spell brought a strike of pain ripping through her body. The witch fell to her knees, panting as she clutched her stomach. The passing agony was a memory now yet her eyes still watered in pain and worry. Her palms rubbed over the swell of her stomach, looking for a sign of life from her babe. A small push against those questing fingers, the flare of her soul-light, eased the mother's worry. Her magicks would have to cease now lest harm come to her daughter.

She pushed herself to her feet, hands unwilling to leave her stomach for too long now. The incantation was fading from the air, no sign of the merging to be seen. Duty done, Hannah left the circle to report to her Queen and rest.

Had she had looked back she would have seen the faint tear by one of the stones, rimmed purple and pulsing with light.

If she saw it and peeked through she would see a creature of living armor, swollen also with child, limping away from a similar set of standing stones.

As years passed that tear would grow and grow until Caledonia would be changed forever. For now it was only a seed, a beginning of a collision of more than just two worlds and two souls.


	2. Chapter 1: Open Doorways

**Author's Note:** I'm happy that some of you liked my prologue enough to fav/follow it, and even review. It's a great boost to my desire to write more. The rest of you are probably waiting to see what I'm going to do before commenting, which is totally understandable (I do it too). If anyone who reads this has suggestions or ideas, please let me know, I'm completely open to them.

Hannah and Elshana's relationship is based off my own with my mother. We have a weird and wacky way of showing affection that makes other people question our sanity, or others laugh their buttocks off.

Chapters may be slow since I only seem to be motivated to write during downtime at work. If I can wean myself off of _Star Wars: The Old Republic_ I may get them done faster.

Disclaimer: I am not following historical accuracy ninety percent of the time. I'll try as hard as I can though. Also don't own _Mass Effect_ or I'd have a Turian hidden in my closet.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames/hate will be used to make S'mores with.

**Author's Note II:** Edited this chapter as well and added some things.

**Spiorad Foraois**

_Chapter 1 – Open Doorways_

By ClaretAmazon

c. AD 235

"I'm telling you, màthair, you're seeing things again." The last few straps of worn bracers were slipped into place. An old and weathered bow was taken from its resting place on the wall. So many of them littered that south wall it made Hannah think her home had become an armory. "And stop pouting."

"My home. I'm allowed to pout." She crossed her arms over her chest and intensified the pout. "Did you even look when I told you?"

Her daughter shook her head and made a show of studying her hair. "It's the light, nothing more! You really are seeing things, màthair, have you been in the mead again?" A laugh escaped her when the enchantress batted a hand at her.

"Och, fool child!" Hannah gave her the evil eye, hiding her smile as her devil child laughed harder. "You'll understand when you get to my age."

"If you let me live so long."

"Of course. Now be careful, Elshana, you don't need to be hurting yourself again." Oh, she couldn't help it. Every time the warrior went to Dun Faileas' walls she came home with some new bruise or cut. She had never outgrown that. It would take the hands of the entire Keep's populace to count how many injuries she had sustained. Hannah wasn't sure that it would even be enough.

Elshana had always been a precocious child from the day she'd been born. Quiet when other babes screamed for hours, healthy when the winter illnesses came. In later years, Elshana would sneak away to lurk in the Smith's workshop, watched the men practicing their archery and sword arms. It was not commonplace for a woman or girl to be interested in such things. The harder that Hannah pushed her towards the herbery of witchcraft the more the girl was found on the training grounds.

So it was with little surprise that the Weapons Master finally allowed her to train with the boys. Most folks had decided that after a taste of combat Elshana would leave the foolishness behind to follow her mother's footsteps.

The eve of her first day both Hackett and Elshana had shown up on her doorstep. Her first reaction had been panic. Her little girl was bruised and bloodied, missing a tooth in her wide grin. Hannah's thoughts were derailed when Hackett began to speak. Elshana had refused to be coddled, insisted in participating in the older boys bouts. Even with the layers of leather padding and her practice sword she had been thoroughly beaten every time by every opponent.

That wasn't why he was there, he said. Her daughter never stayed down, no matter how bad the loss was. He was impressed by her stubbornness, and by the potential he saw in her. The long sword was not for her; however, he wanted to tutor her in archery and daggers.

The raven-haired child had taken to the new weapons like a bird to air, fish to water. Hannah still remained anxious over her daughter taking part in the more physical aspects of warfare. It would be so much safer if she just used magick. When she came of age the conjurer could sense the hidden gift in her, stronger even than her own magick.

Hannah had tried to reach for it, to show her daughter. The first time she touched it was the last time, echoes of an old pain riddling her bones. The currents of power felt wrong, twisted purple instead of a reflection of the element she was most attuned to. Shades of gray for air, brown for earth, red and orange for fire and deep blues for water. Purple was unnatural, something she'd never seen before. For a long time she had been convinced that some mischievous spirit had influenced her daughters spirit.

Her own reaction to it always buzzed at the back of her brain. She couldn't remember like it seemed to want her to, only foggy glimpses of stone coming to her mind. The aberrant nature of it never harmed her girl over time, and so she let it be.

She was broken from her thoughts by a quick kiss on her cheek and the sight of her daughter rushing from their home before another conversation could start again. "I love you too, El."

•••••••

Elshana took the steps two-by-two up the wall. The day was rather misty, clouds threatening rain. It was just another day in Caledonia for her. She looked forward to the time spent on the wall with the other men, the chance to loosen an arrow in the protection of her home. There hadn't been an opportunity for some time now outside of the hunts for food.

There had been rumors the Queen would host a meeting of the Clans and have a competition of arms, brews and songs. If such whisperings were true it would be a great chance for fun, for new blood to come and go in the Highlands. She looked forward to any archery event there may be, and roundly defeating any challenger. Men not of her Clan doubted the strength of her arm and the speed of her arrows. They laughed until she struck true on every target presented, moving or not. No one mocked her again after those competitions.

Those weren't the only rumbles shaking up the Dun these past few days either. Shadows in the forest that moved and watched their lands with sinister intents. Some said it was there men who died over the great waters returned to take vengeance. Others that it was the Sidhe or Fae folk looking for fair play. In her opinion it was just the deer or maybe a bear in search of food.

"See any more of your shadow-men today, Cormag?" The tease was tempered with a smile as she stepped up by the burly mans' side. He was taller than her by a head and a half, grizzled and as old as the stones Dun Faileas was built upon. His size was intimidating but he was the gentlest man she knew. When he was not watching the shadows he tended the Stables and sickly animals.

Cormag gave her a 'harumph' as he watched the forest's border. In the early cloudy light it was hard to see very far yet he still watched like a hawk watched a mouse. "Laugh all you want, lassie, you won't be laughing when they finally come."

"Oh aye, shadows in the forest," One of the other men quipped. "Next it'll be dragons!"

"And grumpy from a night drinking with his fair dragoness."

"Drinking? I'd be doing more than drinking with a woman!"

The elder man grunted, turning his blue eyes on the younger men that stood laughing and making noise down the wall's length. "Would you be speaking those words in front of your màthair, whelp?" There was sudden silence and the fidgeting of the men. "'S what I was thinking."

Elshana laughed and patted him on the arm. She moved down the narrow path, stopping to exchange words with every man on watch that morning. Her men may be young and full of the pride that came with such an age but everyone was loyal. Each of them had fought in defense of their Hold; driven back the bands of roaming men that took advantage of each Dun's missing men. Some of the men that now resided at Dun Faileas were from those groups.

Their Queen was a compassionate woman, her late husband even more so. The men that had been captured had been offered a place within the Holding and a place in her clan instead of finding their fates in the hangman's noose. Most took the offer, and as time passed, found their places. Cormag had been their leader and was now content to keep an eye out for any other roaming parties.

At the end of the barnekin she took her station. With bow in hand and friends by her side she felt steady and confident. All was well in her world: the Keep was safe, the pantries full for coming winter, and her mother was as she'd always been. Beyond the looming rain, nothing could dampen her spirits.

•••••••

In the dark of the forest something watched the wooden walls with interest. It was a primitive building, walls of wood instead of stone and its guards wore strange things over their leather and clothe. Disgust made it growl deep in its chest. So… weak. One of its people could destroy tens of theirs.

Peace had reigned far too long in its home and the blood call was strong. The will to fight was strong in its people, controlled by strict rules and honor. Here in this land there was no one but the General to answer to. With the Generals unorthodox ways maybe there would be a chance to stretch its claws and feel the roar of adrenaline again.

It watched until the mist receded, and then retreated from the watchful eyes of the biggest one up there. There was information to be reported.


End file.
